Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Relates how Mr. Pickwick, with the Assistance of Samuel Weller, essayed to soften the Heart of Mr. B

           

           ‘MydearBenjamin,’saidtheoldlady,strugglingwithagreatshortnessofbreath,andtremblingfromheadtofoot,‘don’tbealarmed,mydear,butIthinkIhadbetterspeaktoMr.Sawyer,alone,foramoment.Onlyforonemoment.’

           ‘Bob,’saidMr.Allen,‘willyoutakemyauntintothesurgery?’

           ‘Certainly,’respondedBob,inamostprofessionalvoice.‘Stepthisway,mydearma’am.Don’tbefrightened,ma’am.Weshallbeabletosetyoutorightsinaveryshorttime,Ihavenodoubt,ma’am.Here,mydearma’am.Nowthen!’Withthis,Mr.BobSawyerhavinghandedtheoldladytoachair,shutthedoor,drewanotherchairclosetoher,andwaitedtoheardetailedthesymptomsofsomedisorderfromwhichhesawinperspectivealongtrainofprofitsandadvantages.

           Thefirstthingtheoldladydid,wastoshakeherheadagreatmanytimes,andbegantocry.

           ‘Nervous,’saidBobSawyercomplacently.‘Camphor-julepandwaterthreetimesaday,andcomposingdraughtatnight.’

           ‘Idon’tknowhowtobegin,Mr.Sawyer,’saidtheoldlady.‘Itissoverypainfulanddistressing.’

           ‘Youneednotbegin,ma’am,’rejoinedMr.BobSawyer.‘Icananticipateallyouwouldsay.Theheadisinfault.’

           ‘Ishouldbeverysorrytothinkitwastheheart,’saidtheoldlady,withaslightgroan.

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